"Mrs. Lockitt, where is papa?" asked Peter, as he ran on beside her.
"Gone to New York, Master Peter," she replied; "I don't think he will be home before dinner time."
Our little scapegrace breathed more freely; at least there were a few hours' safety from detection, and he reentered the library feeling considerably relieved.
There lay Colonel Freddy, his face white as death; one little hand hanging lax and pulseless over the side of the lounge, and the ruffled shirt thrust aside from the broad, snowy chest. Harry stood over him, fanning his forehead; while poor Louie was crouched in a corner, sobbing as though his heart would break, and the others stood looking on as if they did not know what to do with themselves.
Mrs. Lockitt hastened to apply her remedies; and soon a faint color came back to the cheek, and with a long sigh, the great blue eyes opened once more, and the little patient murmured, "Where am I?"
"Oh, then he's not killed, after all!" cried Louie, running to his side. "Dear, dear Freddy! how glad I am you have come to life again!"
This funny little speech made even Freddy laugh, and then Mrs. Lockitt said, "But, Master Peter, you have not told me yet how it happened that Master Frederic got in such a way."
The eyes of the whole party became round and saucer-y at once; as, all talking together, they began the history of their fearful adventure. Mrs. Lockitt's wiry false curls would certainly have dropped off with astonishment if they hadn't been sewed fast to her cap, and she fairly wiped her eyes on her spectacle case, which she had taken out of her pocket instead of her handkerchief, as they described Freddy's noble effort to save his helpless companion without thinking of himself. When the narrative was brought to a close, she could only exclaim, "Well, Master Freddy, you are a little angel, sure enough! and Master William is as brave as a lion. To think of his stopping that great creetur, to be sure! Wherever in the world it came from is the mystery." So saying, Mrs. Lockitt bustled out of the room, and after she had gone, there was a very serious and grateful talk among the elder boys about the escape they had had, and a sincere thankfulness to God for having preserved their lives.
The puzzle now was, how they were to return to the camp, where poor Tom had been in captivity all this time. It was certainly necessary to get back—but then the bull! While they were yet deliberating on the horns of this dilemma, the library door suddenly opened, and in walked—Mr. Schermerhorn!
"Why, boys!" he exclaimed, "how do you come to be here? Fred, what's the matter? you look as pale as a ghost!"